Easter Term just gets a bad rep. Yes, it’s exam term. Yes, I’m knee-deep in revision for my papers. Yes, I’m drowning in 13,000 words of dissertation notes that are begging for me to arrange them into concise and coherent sentences. And yes, Christ’s College’s ‘quiet season’ is upon us.

But as a Mediterranean girlie, Cypriot-born and bred, I cannot ignore the one factor which singlehandedly outweighs all the others. The sun.

Let’s take things in reverse chronological order.

‘Enjoy Michaelmas, survive Lent, enjoy Easter’ is a slogan that is becoming increasingly commonplace on the University’s myriad social media confession pages. And there is good reason for that. Lent comprises an endless January of rainfall, doom, and gloom. Each day we wake up with the hope of decent weather, and each day the walk to Sidge through King’s is just as grim as the day before. Some days I feel like I’m in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Others, I put one foot in front of the other and try not to look at the sky to save myself the disappointment of that inexorable, ubiquitous grey which has haunted me since my very first year. Our cups of coffee, cute mugs of tea, rant-filled coffee shop catch-ups and sweet treat breaks are no panacea. They may provide some temporary relief from the seemingly hopelessly winding road ahead, but once the coffee is done, and your friend has to go write their essay, and the second Arc blondie fails to mollify the constant melancholy oozing out your damaged dopamine pathways, you’re right back to where you started. Doom. And gloom. In conclusion, Lent barely scrapes third place in the ranking of the terms. Congratulations are in order to you all for making it through, one Spotify playlist at a time.

“Easter is the best term of the three. Look around – it’s sunny. It’s bright. The grey subsides and in its place an almost neon green greets me at Christ’s pieces every morning”

If we go a little further back, the Bridgemassy bells of Michaelmas start sounding. It’s not your favourite sound in the world, but it’s also not the worst. Michaelmas brings with it a newfound sense of hope for the year ahead. You look to the future and, believing in yourself, you envision seeing your hard work blossom into better grades, stronger friendships, and more exciting Friday nights. Michaelmas is the smell of hot chocolate and pints, and for some, the lingering promise of all the commercial joys that Christmas brings, be it the angelic glow of Christmas lights on St Andrew’s Street, the heartwarming decorations in college, and the Bridgemas dinner you’ve planned to collectively produce with your culinarily entrepreneurial housemates. Moreover, Michaelmas also entails the burgundisation of Cambridge flora. Whether it be the famous Catz wall, or the Bordeaux wall in John’s, autumn makes for excellent photoshoots and pleasant walks home. It’s the perfect amount of cosy. But in our assessment of Michaelmas we cannot forget Mediterranean enemy No 1: the cold. It’s embarrassing to admit that it’s taken me 3 years to learn how to layer up, but that delay was caused by my difficulty to accept that the weather does get that cold. And no matter how soothing my almond milk cappuccino can be, the moment the wind inverts my helpless umbrella inside, out leaving me defenseless in the pouring rain, counterbalances all of Michaelmas’ joys, aptly landing it into second place.

“Easter term illuminates Cambridge’s gems every single day” 

And now, before you all call me an Easter term apologist, I come with arguments. Easter is the best term of the three. Look around – it’s sunny. It’s bright. The grey subsides and in its place an almost neon green greets me at Christ’s pieces every morning. The sky is blue! The birds are probably chirping. The Sidge girlies are out and about in their long floral skirts and camp crop tops. At King’s Parade people are photosynthesising at every opportunity. Cambridge comes alive. And you have fewer obligations: supervisions and lectures are mostly done, so you get to control your own time. And for those of us who are neurodivergent, that can be a great benefit. This next part might get me cancelled, but getting into academic flow-state and spending hours on end in hyperfocus can restore a sense of equilibrium to my system, which is completely unattainable in the chaos of meetings, supervisions, and lectures which occupy my calendar during the first two terms of the academic year. I get to actually sit down and understand what I am doing, and that gives me a sense of confidence and academic security. Sue me. Needless to say, the best part of Easter is getting sprayed, jumping into Christ’s pool (a local tradition), and tanning on the grass of the nearest park. Easter is for spending time with your friends in Cambridge, a gorgeous town, without the pressures of Cambridge University. The May Ball fanatics among us may additionally enjoy their nocturnal hedonism. All of us reunite with ourselves, and we are reminded of what it’s like to be human beings, as opposed to humans doing. Neither Michaelmas nor Lent can promise such respite at the finale.

All in all, Easter is the best term. So, my advice to you, and to myself for that matter, is to lock in, be compassionate with yourself vis-à-vis exam preparation, remember that you are only human, and to appreciate the little moments in the day: a sunny morning, the orange glow of golden hour, and the hustle and bustle of city centre. This is my last Easter term at Cambridge. I catch myself in unpredictable states of nostalgia while studying at the first floor of the Squire, or wandering about in Market Square, or scanning my Clubcard at my local Tesco to buy my weekly groceries. There’s lots to look forward to in a post-Cambridge future, but there’s also a few things I’ll miss after I graduate. And Easter term illuminates Cambridge’s gems every single day.